


A Different Scenario

by fullmoonrisin



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Ass-Kicking, F/F, Post 4x11, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 13:59:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3572258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullmoonrisin/pseuds/fullmoonrisin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Sameen's sacrifice at the stock exchange was part of the plan? What if there were other assets unknown even to Root and Finch? A look into events post 4x11. Previously posted on FFN</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Knight Falls

**Author's Note:**

> Just an FYI, this work is Part One of a Two part series ending with my other fic, Coming To Terms. Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy is set in the universe of these two stories, and until now, has been the only one available on AO3. I will continue to update that story. I just figured I'd bring the others here!

It's funny.

I don't remember the last time that time stood still for me when I faced death; I've laughed at death so often, I guess I've forgotten. It happened, though. It happened the second I shut that elevator.

My eyes are fixed on that cursed red button, and I can vaguely make out Root's frantic screams through the overwhelming stillness around me. I glimpse the first of Samaritan's agents coming from the hall and I know this is the end. I don't like it, but I am going to die. My hand slams on the button with that thought and my right finger feels itchy on the trigger. Wait for it…

I don't remember ever thinking I was going to die, either. Any time I fought, I fought to win. I never took any other outcome into account. My finger squeezes the trigger as the Samaritan agents near.

Fire one!

One down. Wound to the shoulder. Lethal.

Ironically, the thought occurs to me now that maybe I've lived so long because I never cared if I died. Because I never had anyone to sacrifice myself for…

Fire two.

I glimpse Martine coming around the corner; Samaritan's own harbinger of death. It doesn't take long for the first bullet to rip through me, but I feel nothing in this fog of stillness. The impact jerks me so that I face the elevator and , briefly, I look at my team…at her as I try to tag my counterpart.

Root's screams are louder now and it makes what I can feel of my heart, the part I never would admit belongs to her, ache that it had to be this way.

As the elevator descends, I continue to fight with Martine until her third hit brings me to my knees. It is then that something happens.

The world speeds up again.

Martine and several other agents are left dead in front of me, and I am alive. I am alive, wounded, and confused. Samaritan's agents didn't bite my bullets.

It's pretty useless at this point, but I stay on my knees ready to attack the people responsible for this when I hear footsteps approaching. In a moment, I can make out three figures through the gunpowder. Two women; one man. They all appear well muscled, likely from combat training, and all carry .45 caliber handguns. That's all I can make out clearly as the edges of my vision begin to blur. The last thing I see is the three of them hurrying toward me with their guns down.

 

The ride down to the basement had been silent, and the air even thicker with the grief of each team member. Root had struggled to keep the mission in mind, but in the end, she was reduced to a sobbing ball in the corner of the elevator as her last moments with Shaw played on repeat in her mind. It was only when the elevator came to a stop and more Samaritan agents greeted them that she came roaring to life again with a brand of fury not seen in her from any one in present company.

Root plowed through the agents swiftly, having to be reminded several times by Finch not to go more quickly than John's injuries could allow.

She was a force unleashed and nothing seemed to be able to stop her. She was blind in her rage and Grief.

Harold briefly considered the possibility of going back upstairs and unleashing her on the remaining Samaritan agents; maybe even retrieving Ms. Shaw's body. Little did he know…

Root fired another full clip into the last room full of operatives before they reached their exit.

"Well, I guess that's it." John joked of Root's shooting spree and the whole ordeal as he reached for the door handle, but the humor never made it to his voice. They had won the day, but at a cost.

It would be hours later back at the subway before Root would emerge again from her state of silent mourning.

Finch sat quietly at his computer. He'd long since given up trying to get any real work done and now he sat staring at the monitor and mulling over his Machine's decision. Was there really no outcome where they all survived? Did she mean to sacrifice Miss Shaw? Did she even know Miss Shaw would take that course of action? That thought was discarded as soon as it had entered his mind. Of course she did. The Machine knew each of them intimately. He had designed a machine to predict crime before it happened. Of course she knew Miss Shaw would sacrifice herself before it happened. That left the burning question in his mind: Did his machine intentionally send one of Her assets to death?

"You're hovering, Ms. Groves." Harold spoke gently, the ghost of a sad smile on his lips.

At being addressed, Root moved from her spot and came to stand next to Harold. In the dim lighting he could still see that she looked terrible. Her eyes were red and puffy, her hair was a mess, and fresh blood on her knuckles indicated that she had been taking her anger out on a wall. Finch could only imagine the thoughts and feelings warring inside the hacker. For the longest time, he had watched her blind devotion to his AI with intrigue, baffled that anyone could think of an Artificial Intelligence the way that she did. Shaw seemed to be the only person or thing that could match her devotion to The Machine. Again, considering the implications made Harold uneasy, so he dared not to tread down that path any further for the moment.

"Harold." Root met his gaze with a watery, baleful, almost childlike gaze. "Do you think that She planned that?" The question was not unexpected, still the sound of the broken voice that was so unlike the usual Samantha Groves took him aback. He pitied how lost she looked. Putting her trust in an AI computer God only to have it apparently sacrifice a person she loves. He wished he knew the answer.

"I honestly don't know, Ms. Groves. The Machine accounts for an infinite number of possibilities and chooses the best possible outcome. If Ms. Shaw hadn't shown up, none of us would've made it out alive. Had she survived, we all could've died," Harold paused, letting his words sink in. Of course she already knew all of this, but just maybe it helped to be reminded in some way. "But, I truly can't say whether or not the Machine intended to sacrifice her. I wish I knew."

Root fixed Finch with a mournful expression and they fell into a morose, yet comfortable silence as silent tears streaked down the hackers face.

"For what it's worth," Harold spoke after several minutes, "she loved you. She wouldn't have called it that, but there it is."

"I know." Root half sobbed-half chuckled in response, smiling at archive video footage of Shaw that had made its way onto Harold's computer. Apparently, the Machine was mourning too. Or so they thought. It was a lot like those chains of internet pop-ups. It started with one video in the corner of Harold's screen, then another, and then several more until the screen was filled with old videos of Shaw from different parts of the city, different missions, different times, etc.

"What the…?" Harold stood, brow arched at his monitor as a text window popped up and Root stood with a hand over her mouth beside him.

They watched as the Machine typed three words into the window:

SHAW IS ALIVE.


	2. The Knight Awakens

Part II-

The first thing I feel when I come to is the annoying sting of the bright lights above me burning at my eyes. For a hot second I wonder if I'm dead and this is "the light" at the end of the tunnel, but then my vision clears. The searing pain in my torso that registers soon after is another reminder that, yep, I'm alive.

But how?

My memories are hazy right now. That kiss, the button, Root's screams; I remember those things.

I remember Martine.

Martine…that bitch. I swear I'll get her once I heal. Then it hits me. Someone already did.

I take in my surroundings for the first time since waking up. The room appears to be some sort of empty storage closet no bigger than it is. I sit up, wincing slightly against the pain when the memory of those three people comes to me. If they are a threat, I need to get out of here.

Where the hell is "here", anyway? Hopefully not anywhere near Decima's warehouse.

I'm already fully clothed, so the next order of business would be to find my weapons…or a weapon. With a grunt, I move to stand and almost collapse back onto the bed after a strong wave of dizziness hits. This is just great. There's nothing in this room but the bed! I bet if I tried I could work with that.

It's then, as I struggle to remain standing with my breath coming out in short bursts that the door opens and a man walks in. I think for a second and realize he's the same man from earlier—well-built, at least 6'5", brown hair. I get into as passable a combat stance as my wounded by will allow and stare him down.

"Woah!" He puts his hands up defensively, and I realize that his posture has no threat in it. "No need to get rough. You'll pop a stitch." He smirks with a smile that looks so utterly cocky it makes me want to knock it off his face with a fiber rod. It looks a lot like the look Reese gets when he's winning an argument with me.

"I'll pop more than that if you don't can it." I grumble out, sitting back on the bed once I've decided that the man means no harm.

"So, obviously, you and your accomplices brought me here. Where are we?"

"It's an abandoned tenement on Staten Island." He does not speak with a New York accent, I note, so probably not from around here. I nod, accepting that answer before moving on to the next question.

"And, who are you?"

"I'm irrelevant." He smirks knowingly at me and I feel a glare cover my face at his reference to The Machine's terms. "I'm an agent, same as you are. But you can call me Grimes." He says, leaning against the door frame with casually folded arms.

My glare hardens. It doesn't add up. How could there be other agents all this time that none of us knew about? This can't be good. Clearly he's not Samaritan, but there are countless other factions that would love to take a crack at our team.

"Okay." I nod, leaning a little further towards him from my spot on the bed. "Just one more question."

"Shoot."

"Why…should I…trust…you?" I growl out.

For a moment, he seems taken aback by my hostility, but he's quick to regain his composure. I'll give the man this much: he's smooth.

"Shaw," My eyes narrow at his use of my name, "Samaritan wanted you dead. Hell, you were as good as dead when we found ya. If you couldn't trust us, you would be dead already."

I think it over for a moment. The man has a point. I was outgunned against Martine and the other agents. I was already bleeding out before she was killed. If not for that unexpected bit of good fortune, he's right; I'd certainly be a dead woman. Still, the matter of the Machine in all of this doesn't add up, but that can wait for later now that I know I can trust these people.

I'm hungry.

"Fair point." I say as my stomach growls quietly. "Now, where do you keep the food?"

With a final irritating smirk in my direction, he acknowledges my request and leaves me to my own devices. Left alone, my thoughts wander to the team and I wonder if they made it out. They all looked like shit, John wouldn't have been much help in his shape, and Root…

Root.

Again, Root's screams echo in my head. I hated having to do that to her, but it was the only way for the team to get out alive; for her to get out alive. I think about how worried I was all those times that Root was almost killed. I used to just chalk it up to being protective, but I realized when I kissed her in that elevator that I couldn't deny it anymore. I do have feelings; some of them are for Root.

Then I put myself in her shoes and think about what I would've done if she had actually been killed, and then if it turned out she wasn't dead after I watched her be killed.

Oh shit.

"Root's gonna be pissed."

 

"Dammit!" Root cursed, resisting the temptation to grab her implant and yank it out.

It had been days since the Machine had revealed to them that Sameen wasn't dead and since then She had gone back to her regularly scheduled radio silence despite Root's attempts to find out Shaw's location.

This time when she'd asked, The Machine had responded, but had simply told her "Not yet."

Why the hell not? If Shaw was out there wounded, alone, and with Samaritan still gunning for them, then she needed to be found. The Machine had forsaken Shaw once. Wasn't that enough?

Footsteps in the subway told Root that she was no longer alone with her thoughts. There was a time when she was never alone, but now it seemed like loneliness was all there was between Shaw missing and the Machine's silence.

She looked up as John hobbled towards her, movement still hindered by the healing bullet hole in his back. He took in her frustrated appearance and fixed her with a sympathetic gaze. Bear, who had been lying at Root's feet, perked up and went to meet John.

"Still no word, I take it?"

He came to sit next to her on the bench and Root scowled, reminding John of a petulant child.

"Oh, there's word. She said 'not yet.'"

Reese considered that for a moment as Root went on. "I don't get it. I've listened to her for two years and suddenly she stops talking. When she does speak, it's never as clear anymore."

Of course, John was aware that this had been the case, but he'd never asked about a timeframe. He had a theory about it. "And, when did this start? Her not speaking?"

Root looked thoughtful for a moment, pondering the question while fiddling with Bear's ears. "About the time Samaritan came online."

"I think she's hiding; just like the rest of us."

Root nodded but still had an argument on her lips, "I know. Still, we should be out finding Sameen. She shouldn't be alone in her state."

"You're not thinking with your head, Root." John spoke in his low gravelly voice, attempting to sooth her as much as possible. "It wouldn't be practical to go looking for Shaw right now. I'm not in fighting shape, you're not in your right mind, and Samaritan is still on a man hunt. Also, what makes you think Shaw is alone?"

At the question, Root's gaze snapped up to meet his. "We all watched her get shot. She's a survivor, but even she couldn't take the slugs she took and escape from Samaritan without a little help."

Before she could answer, the implant buzzed back to life in Root's ear with another static garbled message from The Machine.

"Asset is correct."

John watched as Root's face lit up in a way that only happened when she received messages from Her. Then her face shifted into a puzzled expression.

"How?"

"Soon."

Root's first reaction was more frustration, but then she took John's words into account. Shaw couldn't have survived without help. The machine even calculated that there was no chance of rescue, but then…

Root smiled for the first time in days, suddenly looking past her emotions and understanding The Machine again.

"I think She's planning something.


	3. The Knight Returns

"So," Shaw spoke around a mouthful of Phillie Cheesesteak sandwhich, "explain something to me. Why were the three of you at the stock exchange?"

Grimes and his two female accomplices (Grime's sisters, Shaw had learned) watched with awe at the assassin's impressive appetite. Grace, the taller of the two sisters, whom Shaw had developed something of a grudging respect for during her time with the trio, was the first to answer.

"Because the Machine told us to be there." She answered simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Ah…and if you are, in fact, agents of The Machine, why did She tell you about us, but not the other way around?"

In her week with these people, Shaw had made no secret of her distrust. They may not have meant her harm, but they still had yet to provide concrete proof of a connection with Harold's AI. That was the other problem; they weren't her team. Also, there was no dog.

"She didn't." The other woman, Vanessa, spoke up. "She just told us…me…to be there. It wasn't until we found you that we were given any information. Besides you, the only person The Machine has seen fit to make us aware of is Harold Finch."

Shaw thought the explanation over for a moment, using that time to inhale more of her sandwhich. Once she was finished, the wrapper was wadded up and expertly dunked into the trash from where she sat at the table.

"You said She spoke to you." Shaw turned her stare to Vanessa, "I take it that makes you the machine interface of the group." She was surprised when the woman shook her head.

"Not exactly, she just chooses to talk to me through the usual means. I'm sure you're familiar: pay phones, text messages, cell phones. I can't communicate directly with The Machine."

Shaw sensed that she was telling the truth and let the matter drop as she opened a bag of chips, mulling over the situation. If these people were agents of Harold's Machine, clearly She had a reason for leaving everyone in the dark about other existing agents. Who knows how many others could be out there. Maybe that was the plan all along while The Machine had them running and hiding from Samaritan. Maybe it was just a strategy to bide time while She activated her own fighting force.

"How many others do you think are out there?"

Grimes just shrugged in response. "Who the hell knows? Could be a dozen, could be hundreds."

"Whatever's going on, The Machine's definitely planning big against Samaritan. I mean, it makes sense that The Machine would avoid communicating a strategy to us in advance to avoid them picking up the scent."

"I agree." Shaw nodded, "The question is, when will the shit hit the fan?"

 

Harold sat typing away at his computer. He wasn't sure yet exactly what he was working on, but The Machine was directing him. She had finally let them in on her plan, and told Root who exactly had rescued Shaw, a few days ago. This new information came almost two months after they successfully prevented the stock market crash. Root had been antsy for those two months even with the occasional tidbits of cryptic information, but now that she had confirmation of Shaw's safety and renewed faith in her Machine, she was almost back to her old self again.

Almost.

It was frightening to Harold to watch how meticulously the hacker prepared for the demise of Samaritan. She was out for blood, and becoming more impatient by the day.

As for John, he had fully recovered from his injury and had also spent a large amount of time in between numbers getting back into fighting shape. For the time being, at least, he was trapped down in the subway with the rest of Team Machine. Only Root had made it out of the ordeal on Wall Street without her cover being blown, but she chose to stay down in the subway none the less.

All had been quiet on the Samaritan front as well.

Harold found this to be rather unsettling despite the Machine's recent reassurances of a strategy. Quiet could only mean that Greer and his subordinates were regrouping; getting ready to redouble their efforts. Unlike Root, Finch had never been able to put complete faith in his AI, and Her unwillingness to divulge certain key pieces of information left him uneasy about their chance of success.

So this process went for a few more days until finally, the day came that The Machine told him he had completed the task he'd labored over for weeks. It was only hours afterward that he, Reese, and Fusco were gathered in the subway discussing new developments that Root came striding in with a new light in her eyes. They all knew what it meant even before she spoke.

"It's time." She turned on her heel and went straight for the armory. Reese and Fusco weren't far behind. After making his final preparations, Finch stepped into the subway car to question the hacker.

"Would you care to shed a little light on our situation, Miss Groves?"

She simply smirked, looking forward to the night ahead of them…even if it meant her death. "All in due time, Harry." She shoved a few more clips of ammo into various pockets and put a recently acquired grenade in her jacket before putting it on.

"Oh, and Harold? Don't forget that program you've been working on."

It wasn't quite the reassurance that Finch was looking for, but it would do. Root seemed to know the plan, and that was enough.

Once the final preparations had been completed and the group had traversed the shadow map all the way to Samaritan's doorstep, The Machine buzzed back to life in Root's ear. Blanks in Her plan that Root had only been able to guess at were rapidly filled in.

"Stop here."

The stop was an alley way just behind the warehouse. Root looked around and saw no other soul besides the four of them, but The Machine told her that reinforcements would come. To be honest, even with Her reassurance, Root was nervous. If the four of them were to enter this warehouse on their own it would mean suicide. In fact, the Machine had minutes ago calculated their chances of survival without backup at 1.58%.

Worse than Wall Street.

Still she trusted Her.

"So, fruit loops, what's the plan?" Fusco was the first to ask.

"Our objective is to get in there, get to Samaritan's server, and shut it down."

"That's a tall order." Reese stated, "The place is crawling with patrol and security cameras."

"Not to worry, lurch. She's given us a little help with that." Root smiled brightly before explaining herself. "She took the time while she was quiet to look for a blind spot in Samaritan's programming. The one She found allowed Her to get into Samaritan's security undetected and recode us to be identified as Samaritan operatives. She also sent me the schematics for the warehouse."

"Someone's been a busy AI." Reese quipped

"There is a catch, though. The Machine had to stay hacked into the blind spot to keep us undetected. She can only do that for so long."

The Machine began giving Root instructions and she started walking toward a door, beckoning the others to follow. John and Fusco pulled out their guns as Root reached to turn the knob, but she waved them down. "I don't know how long we have until this cloak & dagger operation becomes dagger, but until then we need to stick to stealth kills. We won't face too much resistance from this side anyway, most of the operatives are concentrated near the front."

Just like the stock exchange, the machine had them advance together. Her cloaking appeared to work as they made their way through Samaritan's strong hold. Root and Finch did most of the work during this part of the mission, killing unsuspecting operatives and hiding their bodies. It was when they got halfway through the second floor that things began to heat up with the Machine's troubling message

Assets will be detected. Proceed with caution.

"Weapons out, everybody." Root spoke without missing a beat, ready to make Samaritan operatives eat some lead. Her tone did little to hide that fact. "This just became a dagger operation."

Moments later, they passed by a security camera and an alarm was raised. It didn't take long after that for operatives to hone in on their position and for bullets to start flying. Root and Reese both relished the challenge ahead of them, swiftly blazing through operatives and taking advantage of the cover provided by the warehouse. Finch and Fusco remained more apprehensive even as Fusco showed off his own skills and took down multiple operatives within a few seconds.

"I don't know about you guys, but this is starting to look an awful lot like the Alamo to me."

Root had to admit, the situation was becoming a bit overwhelming, but even as she took out all of her pent up anger and hatred on Samaritan, The Machine continued to tell her not to worry. Then, as they made it onto the third floor…

Odds of objective completion: 50 %

Odds of asset survival: 50%

Odds of Interface survival: 50%

Odds of Administrator survival: 50%

"Did I hear something about the Alamo?" A familiar gritty voice chimed in over comms. "Looks more like a four alarm fire to me."

"Miss Shaw?"

"It's good to hear your voice again, Sameen." Root reverted to the flirty attitude she was accustomed to using where Shaw was concerned. She popped three more Samaritan operatives in the meantime.

"I take it you brought us a little help."

"More than a little. You're machine's been busy." On her end, Shaw snuck up behind an operative on the ground floor near the front and snapped his neck before swiftly pulling her weapon and shooting several more. At this point, resistance on the bottom floor had thinned considerably since the alarm had been raised to Team Machine's presence on the upper floors. Grimes, Grace, Vanessa, and herself had made the tactical decision to separate and make their way up to the others separately in order to give Finch & Co backup more quickly.

"Good chat, Sameen, but I'm a little busy at the moment." She pulled out the grenade she had packed and prepared to pull the pin. She hadn't wanted to use it this soon, but something had to be done to thin out the swarming operatives. The Machine protested swiftly.

Stop. Assistance imminent from upper floors.

"What?" Shaw scoffed in Root's ear as she pocketed the grenade and ducked back into cover to reload her weapons. "Can't a couple of girls take a minute from work to catch up?"

Root smirked at the role reversal of their usual routine, though Shaw had spoken her lines without Root's usual innuendo and in her own gravelly deadpan. Root played along as the group slowly advanced further onto the third floor.

"You're fighting an army of Samaritan operatives and I'm fighting and army of Samaritan operatives. So no, Sameen, we don't have time to catch up."

"Oh well," Shaw's voice was suddenly next to her ear as ten more operatives fell in front of the group, "It was worth a shot." Root looked over to see Shaw coming up beside her with three more people that the Machine identified for her. At the same time, the reinforcements from the upper levels arrived in a flurry of gunfire that could be heard even from this floor.

Root didn't care. Her focus was on killing the operatives before her, and on the woman she hadn't seen in two months. The last image Root had of Shaw being shot down briefly popped into her mind, but she was quick to replace it with the vision before her…and Shaw was a vision.

It surprised Root how easily they fell back into sync with each other, plowing down the advancing Samaritan operatives with a new ease along with John and Fusco. Grimes and his sisters turned around to battle a wave of Samaritan reinforcements from the lower levels.

"Ya'll get moving!" Grimes yelled over the gunfire when Reese turned to engage the new threat. "We'll handle the stragglers." He turned back to the fight in front of him, narrowly dodging the bullet that flew at his head.

"This is taking too much ammo." Reese stated, "Any other way to get to the server?"

Root was still for a brief moment before nodding to the air duct above them.

"That'll drop us directly into the server room. But first, can you buy us a little time, sweetie?" She smirked knowingly at Shaw in a way the told the shorter woman that The Machine had told her something important.

Shaw reached into her coat and pulled out a flash grenade, "One distraction coming right up."

The team covered their eyes as it was thrown, exploding at the feet of the operatives in front of them. Reese deftly removed the vent and hoisted himself up and was followed by Lionel. Root climbed in after Fusco and Finch followed with Shaw's help.

After a couple minutes of crawling, they reached a vent and John spoke,

"I think this is it. I have eyes on Greer."

Root checked the schematics in her head and confirmed.

"Do you see anyone else, Mr. Reese?"

"No, but we still have to make this quick. Ready?"

At everyone's assent, Reese slammed open the air duct and rolled behind the nearest table, holding Greer at gunpoint.

Fusco and Root followed soon after.

"Bravo, Team Machine. I can't say that approach was expected."

While he spoke, Harold crawled his way out of the vent followed by Shaw, who aimed at the door to the room.

"And Miss Shaw…?" He turned his confident gaze over to her direction. "You're looking quite well."

"No thanks to Samaritan." She threw a quick glare over her shoulder in his direction.

He grinned resignedly, aware of his grave situation. Yet, he still maintained an air of confidence about him. His ego would not allow him to fully accept his coming defeat.

"You know, I'm an old man. I don't have all day. If you're going to shoot me just get on with it." Reese's finger tightened on the trigger to do just that, but Greer wasn't finished quite yet. "Ah ah ah…You should know something before I die. I've already called every remaining Samaritan operative back to this location. Good luck leaving here to enjoy your victo—"

His speech was cut off with a bullet from Reese and Harold set to work on shutting Samaritan down.

"Sit tight everyone," Finch spoke, "This is going to take a few minutes."

"Do we have a few minutes before they start swarming?" Shaw looked at Root for an answer.

"She's not giving me any warnings."

So wait they did. And after several minutes, the task was finally completed.

Primary objective: Shutdown Samaritan- Complete

Secondary Objective: Evacuate Assets- In Progress

Chance of failure- 80%

Asset Chance of survival- 20%

What?

Root cringed at the sharp decline in their probability, silently asking The Machine for the best option.

"Samaritan's reinforcements are here. We need to get out of here. Through the door, then meet up with the other agents. We'll fight our way out together."

The team left the server room and followed Root's instructions through the thinnest resistance, making their way across the third floor and picking up several of the Machine's agents along the way. They discovered upon making it back to the stairwell that Grimes, Grace, and Vanessa had not survived. Shaw gave the tiniest, almost imperceptible, nod of respect to the three as the team continued on their way.

When they made their way to the ground floor, they found that the fighting was at its most hellish yet. After dodging, ducking, and weaving their way through the halls, Root and Shaw had somehow become separated from Fusco, Reese, and Finch. They stood fighting back to back in the middle of the largest room on the lowest floor. Root had just used her grenade to get rid of a good twenty agents on one side while Shaw fired away at the other side.

"What do you think, Sameen?" Root asked in her flirty voice, picking off a couple more agents, "would you call this a four-alarm fire yet?"

"It's getting there." Shaw spoke monotonously with a small smirk.

"Isn't that sweet?" A voice called from across the hall, in front of Shaw. Her eyes widened just the smallest bit in recognition. How?

"Martine." Root growled out.

"It seems you're not the only one who can cheat death." The blonde assassin taunted, stepping from the shadows. Shaw smiled as her adrenaline pumped harder at the prospect of another fight with this woman. Root, on the other hand, was nothing other than pissed. She picked off the remaining agents on her side and spun to face Martine at Shaw's side.

"Oh honey," Root cooed, "I'm about to fix that." They stood in their own version of a Mexican stand-off with Root and Shaw aiming at Martine, and Martine only aiming her one gun at Shaw. Meanwhile, John was busy on the other side of the floor having his own duel.

"When I'm done with you, you'll have so many nails in your coffin that nothing will save you from the grave."

Martine scoffed, "Bring it, bitch."

It was over in only a few moves. Martine pulled the trigger and her bullet missed Shaw. Shaw and Root both unloaded and Martine was riddled with bullets to the chest and face. She had used her last life.

As Root and Shaw walked past the body to meet back up with the rest of the group, Root couldn't resist the urge to kick the fallen assassin the side of the head.

Primary Objective: Shutdown Samaritan- Complete

Secondary Objective: Evacuate Assets- Incomplete

Probability of Survival: 85%

 

It would be another few days before any of the team would see each other again. After Samaritan's downfall, they were no longer required to live in the subway and free to go back to their previous living arrangements. Thus, the next several days after the night raid on Samaritan were spent moving back into apartments or finding new accommodations.

It was on the fourth day that Root was down in the subway on desk duty that she finally saw Shaw. Bear got her attention when he perked up, his tail wagging back and forth in his excitement. He had taken Shaw's absence with difficulty and had yet to see her since her return.

A moment after bear picked up on the sound; Root herself heard the familiar click of Shaw's boots on the tile and turned around to see Shaw walking briskly at her with an expression on her face that the hacker couldn't quite read. She smiled, about to let loose some flirty commentary when Shaw did the unexpected. She advanced completely into Root's personal space, hauled her up by her jacket as if she were about to throw her into the wall, and roughly crashed their mouths together.

It was very much like their first kiss, yet so very different. Their first had been rough, desperate, and short. Shaw hadn't expected to live. This one was equally rough, but behind it, Root could feel the love that Shaw refused to acknowledge verbally. She moaned softly, reaching up to grab Shaw's face while Shaw kept a death grip on her arms.

At their feet, the dog whined in confusion until they broke apart for air.

Root was the first to speak after Shaw released her and kneeled to finally give bear the attention he desperately wanted.

"Not that I'm complaining, Sameen, but that wasn't quite what I expected from you after trying so long to get one kiss."

"I had a lot of time to think while I was away." Shaw shrugged, as if this was no big deal and it was going to happen eventually anyway. She continued to rub Bear's belly and the dog could scarcely contain his excitement.

"I expected you'd be a little more pissed at me."

Root smirked deviously at Shaw as the other woman stood to face her again.

"Nothing a tazer can't fix."


End file.
